see 'em springing up like daisies
by safeandsound13
Summary: If she thought it would be easier the second time around, she was wrong. Very, very wrong. — Or, we follow Quinn and Puck for nine months of their lives as they embark on a new but familiar adventure. Quinn/Puck with mentions of Finn/Rachel, Kurt/Blaine and Santana/Brittany, m for language and possible mentions
1. month one

**( a/n hi y'all this is a multi-chapter fic i've been working on for a while now and it's nearly finished. i've had major writers block and i've only posted shit i had been working on for a while and then finally finished. this is just some cuties patoosies quick because i love them, obviously. **

**so this is as you might notice as you read it, going to be around 9 to 10 chapters, each following about a month in these two cutiepies' lives. keep in mind i am no doctor and although i've been taking bio for six years now i am no expert so sorry for any mistakes.**

**if you read any of my other multi-chapters (mainly **_**baby, once i get it, i'm yours**_** and **_**hold on, make it last**_**) i am working on them and hope to finish a new chapter within a months or so! school is just biting my ass right now and i know that's a lame excuse but i am a nerd.**

**song in title is i wanna have your babies by natasha bedingfield.**

**i do not own this song or glee or quinn and puck because if i did glee would move channels to hbo and into a time slot that doesn't require censoring. yes, i am that dedicated. and creepy. thank you for reading. bye. )**

x

No.

No, she tells herself as she throws up for the fifth day in a row after finishing her morning cereal. _No_, no way, she tells herself as she checks her calendar twice a day to make sure that yes, she should've had her damn period already. And _hell no_, she tells herself as she cries watching an episode of Too Cute on Animal Planet.

No. This _isn't_ happening.

Santana finally convinces her to go to the drugstore after she nearly tears her head off because she ate the last piece of chocolate cake in their apartment but she still repeatedly and firmly chants '_no_' in her head as she squats over the stick in the bathroom and thinks of happy things. Ice cream, sunshine, babies. _Damnit_.

Fifteen minutes. What's fifteen minutes? It's hardly a run to Starbucks, it's not even reading the newspaper or painting your nails. Yet, the minutes have never dragged on more. It seems even longer than the first time she did this. She was a teenager then, sure, and she checked every two minutes that the house was in fact empty (nothing more awkward than your dad walking in on you doing a pregnancy test when you've barely gotten rid of your training bras and retainers) and she's pretty certain she was in denial for the first five months of the entire thing.

"I can't believe he got me in this position — twice!" She complains to an empty bathroom like some schizophrenic crazy person as she stares at the blue plus sign on the white stick. "He frickin' did it again," she whispers frustratedly at herself as she carefully wraps the stick in toilet paper and hides it in one of her drawers in her room. (There's something weirdly wrong about stashing it next to Santana's or Rachel's toothbrush. Or worse, her _own_.)

Calmly — because this is just _one_ test, she's _not_ going to freak out — she decides to make herself dinner and dials Noah's number about five times before she's even reached the pantry. Since he's not picking up, clearly, she figures she's just going to have to make an appointment at the doctor's first thing in the morning because there's no way she's buying another one of those pricey little liferuiners.

Of course, Santana and Rachel are both out so this just leaves her to her own thoughts for the entire night. She knows Puck is at band practice with Sam and Finn and he's never been particularly good at picking up his phone — but she really just _needs_ him to pick up his damn phone.

She's not going to freak out she promises herself. She's twenty-five, she has a steady job, she's happy — she really is and it's not like she rolled into bed with Puck out of habit or something. She's been seeing him for over two years now, ever since he moved to New York with Finn and it's been _good_.

She never would've imagined her back with him because even though he said he had loved her back then, and she was pretty sure she had loved him too — it had all been a tangled mess of jealousy and feelings and emotions and puberty and a _baby_ and she couldn't hold a heat of the moment thing against him for the rest of his life.

After college, she moved in with Santana and Rachel because Kurt had just moved in with Blaine and they were doing god knows whatever and Santana and Rachel needed the money, because despite popular beliefs, the Spotlight Dinner didn't earn them enough when it came to paying rent.

And she loved New York, always had, and she found a job as a counselor soon enough. There were plenty of crazy people in the city.

(Including, apparently, her, she thinks as she finds herself staring at herself in the mirror. She lifts her shirt but there's nothing there. No bump or anything else that might incline she's carrying something inside of her, just her flat tan stomach.)

She works as a kindergarten teacher now, having seen enough crazy in her own life to last her another three lifetimes, and she likes the little wide eyed messy chubby monsters she gets to work with everyday. They always seem to brighten up her day. Okay, she loves them.

Doesn't mean she needs nor _wants_ one of her own.

She loved Puck, so much, _really_ — but babies and them had never been a good combination. Look what happened the first time, they basically ignored each other for a year after she gave up Beth like they hadn't seen each other naked and shared baby names ideas and had a frickin' baby.

It had taken her a long time to even let herself love him again, even though he kept trying and she kept shooting him down until Rachel '_accidentally_' locked her out of her own apartment to '_be with Finn_' (like they had ever paid attention to her whenever she was in the room next to them and they were obviously doing some heavy petting) while she had nowhere to go but Finn's and Puck's apartment since Rachel had conveniently told everyone else she knew in the city to not open their doors or answer their phones under any circumstances. It was either that or spend the night under a bridge or in a cardboard box and Puck wasn't _that_ bad. (She had no idea Rachel was _that_ desperate to get them together, but that was another story.)

And now they had been together for two long/short years — taking it slow at first and after that going so fast that sometimes she had to _literally_ stop for a weekend to collect herself — and she might or might not, be possibly, maybe carrying his child. Now. Again.

She pats her stomach, and like a lunatic expects some kind of reaction, but when she realizes that even _if _there's something inside of her it's not going to respond since it's probably bean shaped right now. With a sigh, she lets her shirt fall back down and she falls back on the couch.

Her phone beeps and she struggles to get it out of her jeans pocket before seeing Puck has finally decided to check in. Well, she better cross him off her list on who to call when being chased by a serial killer. He would've cut her into ten separate pieces by now. (She makes lists now, it's kind of her thing.)

**NOAH: sup babe?:)**

What's up is that you seriously need to consider a new brand of condoms because honestly, this is getting insane.

Letting out a frustrated sigh she drops her phone on the floor and as she stares at the ceiling she finds herself with her hands on her stomach. She can't _believe_ he frickin' did it again!

.

She almost tells him that night when he comes over and brushes against her breasts as he leans over to get his drink of the coffee table and she winces because _that hurts a lot _before she decides to keep the conversation to herself until in the morning. He's obviously tired from practice and she doesn't want to spring it on him like it obviously had on her (denial was probably one of her strongest suits) and she's not entirely sure she can even tell someone else beside herself.

She had actually hoped Santana or Rachel would be off from work early but they probably have better things to do then listen to her ramble. She envies Santana, really. Never needing to worry about any of this _shit_. And she's also pretty sure Rachel and Finn would hope for twins if she were pregnant.

It's not like her and Puck aren't serious, because they are. He's talked about saving money to buy them an apartment — because he was 'so sick and tired of seeing Rachel and Finn in their underwear and we're basically together every night anyway' but she saw the nervous smile on his face as he told her — and even mentioned joint bank accounts, which honestly kind of made her sweat and frankly, freaked her out.

It _is_ serious, sure but it's still scary. She's twenty-five and she's scared of commitment to a boy she's been pretty much in and out of love with since she was sixteen. Dandy.

Still, babies? A baby is something entirely different than an apartment or a joint bank account, even a marriage. It's a frickin' baby. You can't back out of that. You sign a lease for eighteen years and there's no getting out of that (not that she could handle any alternative to raising it ever again).

And he's a _guy_, in his twenties, and in his free time he's in a band for goodness sake! He probably would be even more freaked out than her and she stared at herself in the mirror for ten minutes and contemplated about a _bean_.

(And she feels like a selfish self-obsessed bitch when she thinks that if she had a choice, if she _had to_ chose, she would probably chose Puck over _it_ — this baby.)

So they watch a dumb documentary on Discovery about lumberjacking (nothing with animals, dear God, nothing with animals) and he drinks a beer and she politely declines which does earn her a weird look — but he might've picked on her and Santana fighting about her 'being a mood for days now' this morning so he leaves it be.

She knows it's not consciously that night when he turns in his sleep and his hand lands on her stomach but she panics. She hasn't been able to sleep all night and she's _so_ tired and her boobs frickin' hurt and she just wants to cry and sleep and tell him. She needs to tell him.

She nudges him a few times until he finally groans at a particularly hard elbow in the ribs.

"Remember last year," she asks, not bothering to turn around or even keep her voice down (if there's anything she's not worried about right now it's her roommates' beauty sleeps) as she clenches his hand in hers, pressing it to her stomach tightly. "When my sister had Jason and then she had to quit her job because he was such a handful and then her husband left her when the baby was three months old?"

"Huh?" He retorts, voice groggy, undoubtedly still half asleep.

"Quinn, are you okay?" He frowns, sitting up as he puts his free hand on her shoulder. She turns onto her back and stares up at him for a moment. She blinks a few times so she can make out his form in the dark. He looks tired as he rubs his eyes before throwing her a worried look.

"What's up?" He adds when she doesn't look like she's about to answer any of his previous question. She shakes her head, mainly to herself, before pulling on his shoulder. "Nothing, just — go back to sleep." He looks at her one more time before he lies down, pulling her close to his chest. It's quiet for a moment or two and she knows he'll be asleep any moment. Puck could literally sleep through _world war 3_.

"I always thought he was a jackass," he mumbles just before he drifts off to sleep again.

A small smile breaks out onto her face despite her crazy thoughts as she rests her head against his chest, biting down on her bottom lip as she stares down at the tiny space in between their flat stomachs. For just a moment, long enough to drift into a peaceful slumber, she forgets about her worries.

.

"I might be pregnant," she blurts out to him as she serves him some freshly baked waffles, not even bothering to bring it more subtly (she figured there was nothing subtle about that damn white stick either so why should _he_ get a carefully wrapped '_i might be carrying your baby_' sandwich with compliments and outs and '_are you sure you can deal_''s).

He has to start football practice at school in half an hour, she knows that, and it makes it just that much easier. If he decides that this isn't something he can deal with then he's already dressed and ready to go. She can drop his stuff off while he's at school and she'll never have to face him again.

His head snaps up and he looks at her like he's trying to determine if she's really serious or kidding around but then his face lights up a little, as if he just now realizes she's really frickin' _serious_ and then he shrugs, taking a bite out of his waffle.

"When is your first doctor's appointment?"

.

The doctor points at the screen and she squeezing her eyes really tight together, so tight she's sure she's going to have a brain aneurysm if she doesn't stop but she doesn't see anything. She looks over at Puck, though, and he seems to have looked God himself in the face.

His grip on her hand tightens and his eyes light up as the doctor talks about the _blob_ — they probably can't even see their actual baby yet but Puck surely doesn't seem to care — on the screen and how it's too small to have a heartbeat but how in their following appointments she can surely show them and _shit_, there's really something inside of her and she's not going to cry.

She's not. She refuses.

"Now, I know the ultrasound didn't really prove anything since we were only able to locate the gestational sac but as you know we've done some testing," the doctor smiles nervously at Quinn's obviously cold expression (she knows about the testing, she has a hole the size of texas in her left arm to prove it, thank you very much) before she continues, "And it seems like you're about four weeks along. In two weeks we'll even be able to locate the actual fetus and possibly pick up on a heartbeat."

The doctor looks over at Puck, who unlike her, is responsive to the news and smiles back at her, thanking her before leading Quinn out of her office and into his car. She took a sick day at work because she felt too nervous to even be taking care of a bunch of four year olds but she knows he needs to get back to work soon. Selfishly she makes him drive her over to McDonalds anyway, where she orders three different kinds of ice cream.

He doesn't ask her anything, just smiles and glances over to her stomach every twenty seconds as they sit in the parking lot and she pretends not to notice.

She leans over and kisses him on the lips hard, because honestly, if anyone is going to screw this up it's clearly not going to be him.

.

"Quinn, how are you feeling?" He asks her before she even has time to say hello, when she comes over to his apartment after he's done with work. They're meeting up with their friends at her apartment later but she needed to talk him beforehand. In private. "About this?" He adds as an afterthought like she might not know what he's talking about — as if she hadn't been stuffing herself with chocolate and watching gossip girl all day and contemplating her existence since he brought her home.

He hasn't really said anything about all of it, but something's telling her he isn't too worried about it and he's actually a little excited. And she doesn't want to take that away from him, it's just _so_ much to take in.

"Fine, fine, just a little… overwhelmed," she lets out a deep breath she didn't know she was even holding and looks up at him. "You really want this, huh?" She asks, biting down on her lip.

"You don't?" He retorts and it's not an accusation, it was more filled with bewilderment like this had been in his plans along — having babies and raising them with _her_.

She breaks out in a smile, because even if she's worried about how her life will change, she knows it's something she ultimately always wanted. Things just never go as planned when it comes to her and Puck.

.

"Hello, my dear, _dear_ friends," Puck announces happily as he enters the apartment, throwing his coat over a kitchen chair before walking over to Rachel ("_Rachel, you look particularly cute today!_") who lets out a surprised squeak as he kisses her on the cheek, giving her a big hug before moving onto a struggling Santana ("_San, _love_ the nasty look on your face. Bet it gets the ladies going. So mysterious._") and doing the same to her.

"Puckerman, what the fuck?" Santana spits with a frown as she wipes her cheek with her hand and follows his frame with an incredulous look.

He ignores her and continues to hug Sam ("_Saaaaam!_"), who bursts out in laughter as he pats him on the back, Blaine ("_Nice bowtie, Blainey days_"), who just shakes his head, and Kurt, who cautiously warns him to not ruin — or god forbid, _wrinkle_ — his new Chanel jacket, even squeezing the latter's face together in his hands.

Quinn can't help but laugh at his antics. (She's having war flashbacks about a little something called _vitamin d _as she admires the scene in front of her.) She had tried to convince him to wait until she was at least three months along but there's no talking him out of anything. At least he's _really_ happy about it. There's no denying that.

He walks over to the couch and falls down next to Finn, grabbing his head in his hand and placing a firm kiss on the side of the music teacher's face.

"What the hell have you been smoking, dude?" Finn says as he pushes him off and gives him a weird look.

"Noah, I told you about the genital warts you supposedly get from marijuana, right?" Rachel remarks with a stern, worried look as she settles down on the other side of Finn.

A smile stretches across his entire face as he gets up and moves to stand beside Quinn. "Guys, me and Quinn have an announcement."

"For fuck's sake, I did not get dressed into this hot, hot lady trap for _this_," Santana sighs as she leans against the chair Sam's currently sitting on.

Rachel gushes excitedly as she hops up and down the couch. "You have to show us the ring, Quinn!"

"Oh, I love weddings!" Kurt claps his hands together and Quinn grimaces a little as she realizes they're doing this in the wrong order, _again_. Oops.

"Fuck that, dude," Puck says, his smile never faltering, as he grabs onto her hand, "Me and Quinn — we are having a baby."

"Damn, that's very highschool of you," Finn snorts and Quinn shoots him a glare, flipping him the bird. God knows he's the only one who gets to joke about that without losing an actual limb. He feigns pain as he puts a hand over his heart before he sends her a smile and she knows he means well.

Rachel is over in a second to touch her stomach with Kurt right behind her who immediately starts talking colors for the nursery.

Sam high fives Puck, as he gushes unbelievingly, "I can't believe you're going to be a _dad_!"

"Again," Blaine adds, equally excited as he shakes his hands in the air with the big lipped blonde adding as he nods his head, "I am going to be such a frickin' cool uncle. Unbelievable."

"Congratu-fucking-lations, you did it again, Puckerman. Knocked up the holy innocent Quinn Fabray. _Can't_ wait. Can we leave now? I want to get there before that hot bartender's shift ends," the black haired Latina buts in as she slaps Puck on the shoulder. "Guess this means no alcohol for you, Fabray?"

"Not unless she wants a four headed, three legged green baby," Finn tilts his head, raising his eyebrows, undoubtedly imagining this four headed, three legged green creature.

Sam's face lights up, possibly picturing her child as the new Mozart. "That would be really cool, though, if it had like, ten fingers on one hand."

"I recently read a study that said alcohol can do so much as raise the risk of heart failure to 80 percent plus it can actually _shrink _the brain—" Rachel babbles on not even noticing the green color Quinn is sporting at the moment. She hadn't even considered the fact that the baby might _not_ be healthy or the fact she could screw up it's health by doing one little thing wrong. She doesn't remember stressing this much the first time and she'd been a teenager then.

Santana frowns, rolling her eyes as she shoves Rachel a little, "Argh, shut the fuck up, Berry."

"Santana!"

"Our baby is going to be fucking _perfect_," Puck whispers against the side of her head proudly as he places a kiss to the side of her head while everyone talks on and on and on about the bundle of cells in her stomach. It's all _so much_.

Quinn swallows hard. This is going to be a long nine months.

.

**a review would be super rad of you! ! !**


	2. month two

.

**(a/n: hola no hablo español, solo hablo un poco but i wanted to pretend i was smart and spoke more than four languages (aiming for five, bitches! or should i say**_** mi amigas c;**_**). **

**i've tried my harderst to keep puck and quinn in character but keep in mind she's prggerz so**

**well this is chapter two, hope you guys enjoy! it starts out shit but not everything is sunshine and rainbows for quinn and puck especially not when he knocked her up. !**again**! (can i press this enough? ? ?) needed to doubt the place up, ya feel?**

**ya feel me, i hope.**

**i got all my info for this fic of off planned parenthood and my bio textbook and shit but i could still be wrong! ! ! i am not an OB/GYN nor do i aspire to be! ! ! your vagina is so welcome! ! !**

**well read on my friends! tell me what you think/want and please review! thank you! adios)**

.

Puck is awakened by a loud scream coming from the bathroom. Rushing to sit up and almost falling out of bed, he scrambles to his feet and opens the door to this bathroom.

He lets out a deep sigh as he finds Quinn stepping on top of the scale and stepping of it after letting out a squeak.

"I've gained like four pounds already and I've barely entered my _sixth_ week—"

"Quinn, what the hell? It's seven in the morning!" Puck groans, because she's not fat and what's _four pounds_ and she's carrying a little tiny baby that needs to eat and grow and she's not goddamn fat even if she thinks so and it doesn't even fucking matter.

"This is already ruining my life—"

He knits his eyebrows together as he looks at her. Her hair is down and uncombed and she's dressed in just her pyjamas and she looks really worn out.

Ruining her life though? She's tired, maybe a little agitated at times and super stressed because of all of this and he gets that the throwing up might not be fun but it's a baby they're talking about.

He gets that he should be the one that's scared and running away and yelling that he doesn't want this, but he _wants_ this. Desperately. And he's never really been about timing shit (timing with him and Quinn? Off, so fucking off) because it never works out the way you want it to even if you plan it out step by step, he's learned that from his, mostly shitty, existence by now— seen it all around Lima. Life doesn't, it just doesn't work like that.

Somehow he managed to convince Quinn to love him back and so far it's been the only thing he's accomplished without royally fucking up (if he counts out the first baby/adoption fiasco and the entire year they ignored each other because he was a dickhead, too much of an coward to fix her—let alone talk to her) besides maybe, getting his high school diploma and becoming a teacher.

But he wants this. He wants to be a father, a real one this time, and most of all he wants to be dad. A good— _great_ one. To think Quinn doesn't want that, too? It's just— tearing his fucking heart apart.

"Ruining your life? What, so you don't want to have a—"

"I didn't say that—"

"Yes, you just said it was _ruining_ your life—"

"—I just meant—"

"Everything okay, guys?" They hear a soft knock on the door and Finn's familiar voice. He reminds himself that not everyone goes from zero to 500 in ten seconds like they do and the fact it's seven in the morning and they probably woke up the entire neighbourhood by now.

"Fine," they both retort shortly at the same time as they glare at each other.

"Jesus, Quinn, I thought you wanted this, too," he grunts through his teeth and he sees the cold look in her eyes. He hates it when she gets so closed off and tries to push him away, and frankly, acts like a total bitch, wanting him to know things he couldn't possibly know by taking one look at her.

"Maybe next time bother to ask for my opinion before you tweet it out!" She screams, aiming her hairbrush at him, barely missing his head.

"I _did_," he says, his voice stern, and he can see her crumbling under his gaze. He refuses to look away. "I mean, I— we— we never had an actual conversation about this before but I asked you if you wanted this."

He hesitates. Then, he adds, softly, "And you said yes."

Tears are starting to form in her eyes. He knows this isn't about her wanting this, because he knows, deep down she does. She's just afraid of losing who she is again, like she did last time.

(But they're older and wiser and they have things of their own and jobs and most importantly, they're not teenagers who don't have a clue about what the hell they're getting each other into. He didn't get her drunk on wine coolers and she didn't have sex with him because she wanted to feel wanted. They both did this and something _obviously_ went wrong but it didn't have to be a bad thing. Not this time.)

She looks away, running a hand through her hair.

"Quinn, what's going on?"

She sighs, sliding down to the floor and leaning back against the bathtub. She wipes her cheeks with her wrists and surprisingly not more seem to be coming. "I'm just— I'm _freaking_ out, okay?"

He sits down next to her, leaning his head back against the cold tiles of the wall next to the bathtub as they both stare at the door.

"Things are already starting to change and I didn't plan for that," she tells him, turning her head to look at him, "At least not this soon."

"Things _are_ changing, but change is good," he snorts a little, bumping his shoulder in hers.

"Thanks, Gandhi," she replies sarcastically, rolling her eyes before sighing deeply.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You sighed," he presses on because nothing is always something with Quinn Fabray.

"It's just— I mean you wouldn't even touch me in bed last night and I felt sixteen again, you telling me you didn't '_date fat chicks_' and that it was hardly your fault I was pregnant—" she rants on, and he knows she's overreacting and do pregnancy hormones really just overtake a body like that? (Maybe he should call an exorcist or something, just to be safe.)

"You told me I wasn't allowed to touch you!" He interrupts her, not even bothering to apologize for his former self. That was long in the past and he'd fallen in love with her then and he was in love with her now, but they were both different people now, grown or whatever. She knew that and she didn't expect him to but it still made him feel like a dick after all this time.

"That doesn't mean I meant it," she knots her eyebrows together, sending him a dumbfounded look. How could he _not_ have known she didn't mean it? Jokes on you, Fabray.

"Maybe because you threw your copy of Pride and _whatever-the-fuck_ at me when I touched your shoulder?" He offers, nudging his shoulder into hers as he gives her a smug look.

A smile breaks through on her face, finally, and she lets out a small laugh. "It's Pride and Prejudice."

"Just talk to me, okay? I know I don't listen ninety percent of the time and just nod and smile and ask '_oh really_'," he smirks, his voice trailing off to await her response.

"No way!" She lets out a mock-offended gasp, putting a hand over her heart and feigning hurt before punching his shoulder. (He can spot the smile she's hiding, though.)

He continues, brushing her hair out of her face,"But half the time I actually do not know what the hell you want. So just be clear. Spell it out if you have to."

A smirk stretches onto her face, her eyes twinkling cheekily.

"B-a-c-o-n."

"I should've seen that coming."

"Cry me a river."

.

"Ouch, don't squeeze!"

"You always like it when I squeeze!"

"Do not frickin' squeeze, Puckerman."

"How can I rub your shoulders if I can't squeeze?"

She inhales sharply before biting back in fast speech, "How about I grab your dick and slam in between the door a few times and then I come to visit you in the hospital and I grab it— and frickin' _squeeze_ it! Would you like that?"

"Jesus, you didn't have to be so explicit."

"That's what I thought. Now get to work."

.

Apparently Quinn was just _bloated_ or something (Rachel tells him this as she shoves her copy of '_what to expect when you're expecting_' into his face and he wonders what the girl is even on) and holding onto liquids or fluids or whatever because now she's actually _losing_ weight.

It's kind of creepy because she was _so_ thin already and now when he puts his arm around her waist he can feel her ribs sticking out. She tells him it's just from all the throwing up and he gets that, he does, but it doesn't withhold him from bringing home cheeseburgers and milkshakes and ice cream at any given time he's able to.

"Puck, seriously?" She says frustratedly as he opens up a bag. "I told you to get me coleslaw and a pack of gummybears and you bring me McDonalds?"

He shrugs lamely, sitting down next to her on the couch. "They're great. Admit it."

"Yes. I _like_ the McBacon, Puck, but that does not mean I want to eat it every night for the rest of my life."

"You eat bacon like every fucking morning!"

"Yes, and you eat your waffles but I'm not bringing you the frickin' McWaffle every night!"

"That doesn't exist," he tells her truthfully, stuffing his mouth with french fries, "I asked."

"You're disgusting," she states, scrunching up her nose as she shakes her head.

"Eat up," he pleads, pushing the burger into her direction. Before biting into his own burger, he adds with a mumble, "Or you're going to turn into dust."

"Have you ever considered I might be retching all the time because you keep feeding me this stuff? It's all pure grease," she informs him, holding up the burger to her mouth, sending him a look. He blinks a few times, a confused look on his face. Just three more seconds, she thinks, hiding her smile. "Mhm, _more_ grease for the baby."

"Fine," he groans loudly, pushing himself off the couch, "I'll get you the damn coleslaw for your chicken salad."

"Thank you!"

.

She wakes up at four in the afternoon to find that she did in fact fall asleep on the couch after cleaning her room for maybe, fifteen minutes, tops. This being tired all the time really isn't a good thing, especially when she has to take care of twenty or some five year olds during the day and wants to maintain a normal social life.

"Shit," she mutters, taking a second look at the clock, only now realizing her mother was expecting a call and she probably had to tell her about the whole pregnancy thing before she found out from Puck on frickin' Facebook. She knew it was only normal to tell your mother (she could postpone telling her boss and acquaintances until she was actually showing) but it felt kind of weird for some reason. She didn't want her mother to run out on her again and a small part of her still feared she would.

With a sigh she puts her hair up and stretches a little. She needs to fully awake for this conversation. Picking up her cellphone of her nightstand she calls her mother's number and tries to mentally prepare herself. She doesn't have much time, because, _of course_, her mother picks up after the second ring. It's like she'd been waiting by the phone all day.

"Quinny? Is that you?" Her mother asks excitedly and Quinn can practically see her fiddling with the pearls around her neck.

"Hi," Quinn breathes, clearing her throat. "Mom, before you say anything— I have to tell you something."

Her mother gasps and puts a hand over her heart, "Oh Quinny! Did Noah finally ask you to marry him?"

"No," she snaps, maybe a little too angrily. She can't help it. Why does everyone just keep assuming they're getting married? It's annoying. Really annoying. She constantly feels like she's doing something wrong— when she's obviously not. This is not the sixteenth century, sex before marriage is to be expected, especially when you had a baby at sixteen. She doesn't get the big deal. "Puck and me are _not_ getting married."

Besides, since when was her mother so excited about the prospect of her marrying Puck? She had accepted Puck despite his Jewish heritage and the fact he'd knocked up her daughter in her teen years but she's never been _too_ keen about him. He was allowed to enter the house but let's just say he shouldn't try to request a joint room to Quinn's.

"Quinn," her mother says sternly, "What is going on with you?"

This is it. She needs to say it or she will probably wait until the kid is twenty-four, fresh out of college if it's anything like Puck and has long moved out.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly blurts out, "I'm pregnant. Almost two months, I know it's early and stuff but, uhm, I— we— I _had_ to tell you."

"Oh, Quinny!" Her mother retorts and she's not sure if it's an '_Oh Quinny, I told you to go on better birth control_' or an '_Oh Quinny, I'm relatively happy about this!_'. She doesn't know which one she wants it to be either.

"Mom?" She carefully asks after a minute or so, because she can hear her mother sniff and she hasn't said anything. "Are you disappointed?"

"Don't be silly!" Her mother exclaims, wiping her tears with a handkerchief before clutching it to her chest. "I'm _so_ happy for you."

"Really?" Quinn asks with a confused look on her face. She had at least expected some yelling. She hadn't won awards yet or changed the world, like _Frannie_. She rolls her eyes at the thought alone when she realizes her mother's still taking.

"... and I've always wanted to be one of those grandma's who knits sweaters and scarves, right? So I'm going to ask sweet Mrs. Johnson to teach me and maybe I could come over to—"

"Mom, that's great," Quinn interjects (ignoring the blatant self-invitation, she loves her mom but she's a lot to handle) and her mother sounds amused as she says, "You sound surprised."

"Yeah, I mean, I wasn't— I wasn't sure if you.." Quinn trails off, picking at the fabric of her dress.

Judy sighs audibly, and remains quiet for a moment or so before she finally softly discloses, "I'm so sorry, Quinnie, you know that, right?"

"I do," Quinn responds firmly before sighing herself, "Could you—I don't know— Could you.. Tell Frannie?"

She'd never really been close with her sister and she was not up for a half hour phone conversation of Frannie talking about how much she had accomplished and how much Quinn hasn't and _a baby, _Quinn? We both know how that worked out the first time_._

Not to mention the fact Puck fathered her baby because Frannie could go on about _him_ for hours. He's no good, Quinn! Look what he did to you! Look what he's done again. He's a teacher, a teacher for God's sake and you know he's making you lose focus. What ever happened to Quinn Fabray?

Quinn knows better than to call her herself because the hormones are already driving her nuts. Who knows what she might blurt out. So, she asks her mother to call her wildly successful sister and..

And her dad. She knows it's an unspoken thing, her mother doesn't talk to him either but Frannie does. She had always been a daddy's girl, just like she'd been, and that hadn't stopped because apparently disowning your own sister and running off with a tatted up skank wasn't enough reason to.

"Of course," Judy answers softly, before Quinn makes up having to be somewhere and they both say their goodbyes.

That wasn't so bad.

.

That was horrible.

Jake had taken it well, he didn't really care how many babies they got or when they got them as long as they were happy and he got to be the cool uncle.

But then there was Mrs. Puckerman. To say she was shocked was an understatement. A huge understatement.

"She's not even a nice Jewish girl, Noah!" His mother had cried over the phone and Quinn didn't know if she'd been taken more back by the fact his mother thought she wasn't nice enough or that she wasn't Jewish enough. She had known the latter part played a big role for the older woman but she had been nothing but nice to her and Puck's sister, Sarah, right? Right?

He'd taken the phone of off speaker after she'd started yelling in half-Hebrew about how wrong Quinn actually was and Quinn had tried to occupy herself with painting her nails. It turned out to be harder than she had initially thought because Puck kept sighing and yelling and rolling his eyes and strangely, she was a little turned on.

"Well, get over it, ma," Puck had finally growled after trying to calm her down for over half an hour, pressing the '_stop_' button on his iPhone and throwing it on the table, falling back into the couch.

"That went well," Quinn said with a sad smile as she nudged him with her now, hopefully, dry toes.

"Couldn't have gone any better in my opinion," he grinned, grabbing onto her leg and pulling her closer. "She just needs a little time," he told her, pushing her hair from her face and she rolled her eyes skeptically, "Possibly a little anger management," he added teasingly, making her smile before he continued, moving her legs into his lap and softly stroking them with his hand. "But it'll be okay once Sarah knocks some sense in her."

Quinn sighs a little at that, obviously relieved as she leans her head back on the couch, "Yeah, Sarah _is_ the captain of the debate team."

"Right," Puck agrees, as he pats her leg comfortingly, reaching over to grab the remote control.

"Didn't take after you, that one, she seems to actually use her brain," Quinn grins, running a hand over her boyfriend's mohawk as she leans her face closer to him.

"Lucky _you_," he responds, smirking as he leans in closer to her face. Not being able to come up with a witty come back soon enough Quinn connects their lips and he moves to lay her down, settling in between her legs. She's halfway with pulling his shirt over his head, his mouth focusing on her neck when something vibrates in between them.

"Ah, speak of the devil," he groans as he leans his head against Quinn's shoulder while he tries to pull his phone out of his pocket. He sits up, and opens up the unread text message of his sister.

**SARAH: just heard the news, i'm literally dying ahhh:) i'm so happy for you! i will get some caffeine into mom & show her a slideshow with pics of the top 50 cutest babies voted by g-mas! she'll send over hand knitted scarves/blankets & well wishes within twelve hours. tell q she's insane but i love her xx p.s. when is the wedding tell me im a bridesmaid!**

"She's a special one, isn't she?" Quinn laughs as she reads along with him over his shoulder, pressing her chest against his back and holding on to his shoulders.

He smirks, stuffing his phone back into his pants. "It's a Puckerman thing."

"In your dreams," Quinn gets to sputter out in between laughter before he turns around and attaches his mouth back to hers. Pressing kisses to her skin he adds, "Like our charm," he moves on to her neck, "And our awesome taste in music ," he moves her dress a little to side and presses his mouth to the valley in between her breasts, "And our _ridiculously_ good looks." He comes back up to her face and she laughs wholeheartedly, shaking her head at his grin.

"You're so full of it."

"Jokes on you because you love me."

She pretends to think about it, sighing deeply, "That's debatable."

"Oh really," he retorts skeptically but he's smiling before pulling her up to meet him halfway in the air, putting his hands on either side of her face and attaching their mouths together in a warm, slow kiss. The best kind, really, because she knows for a fact he's never shared these with anyone else.

She figures everything is going to be okay, after all.

.

"Why do you smell like peach?" Quinn asks as un-buries her face from Puck's neck and gives him a weird look with an amused smile.

He rolls his eyes, looking particularly annoyed, "I had to use Berry's shampoo because someone used my shampoo to shave their fuckin' legs or some shit and I didn't have time to go home and be back in time for our showing of that lame ass book-movie shit you wanted to see, that was like half Russian and half fucking insane."

"French," she corrects him, pressing a kiss to his jaw as she leans up and rests her head on his chest as she look up at him. "Last time I was at your place Finn used my children's drawing to light the fireplace. I almost threw the toaster at his head."

"Yea, and Santana keeps using my toothbrush— like that's just fucked up."

Quinn laughs loudly, rolling onto her back. "I feel like we're in some weird polygamous relationship with our friends."

"No shit, last Friday I walked in on Finn and Rachel doing the nasty on the couch and I didn't even blink twice. Just asked if there was any beer left and then went to my room," Puck snickers, grimacing for a second as he recalls the incident.

Quinn laughs again, shaking her head before moving her head to look at him, "We_ really_ need our own place."

"You'd want to live with me?" He seems a little surprised like he hasn't mentioned it before, hasn't told her how happy he'd be to live alone with her and have privacy and apparently, she'd missed the underlining words he didn't speak but surely felt, a bunch of babies.

"Uhm, what did you expect? I was going to have your baby and then refuse to live with you?"

He snorts a little, his eyes twinkling teasingly, "Sounds like a Faberry thing to do."

She gasps, elbowing him in the ribs. "Start looking, Puckerman, because I'm not kissing you until you're completely free of Santana bacteria."

"I heard that, you little blonde shit! Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean I won't slap the shit out of you!" Santana calls from the bathroom angrily and they both laugh as Quinn rests her head onto his shoulder.

"See, we desperately need to get our own place."

.

"I think I'm going to head out," Tina sighs, taking her eyes off the bad daytime soap opera, as she crosses her arms and looks over at the two of them.

"I thought you said Mike and the kids wouldn't be back from the game until seven," the blonde responds disappointed with a frown as she glances the clock. It's only five and she barely gets to see Tina these days with her busy Broadway schedule and her four dozen kids running around and her hot dancer husband.

"I thought you said we could have a girls day," Tina retorts with the hint of a smile as she nods over to Puck.

"Really feelin' the love, Cohen-Chang-Chang," Puck fakes a big smile before flipping her the bird. Tina just huffs, smacking him over the head.

"God, I feel like I'm right back in high school with you two horny teenagers groping each other!" Tina bursts out aggravatedly before letting out a small smile. "It'd be cute if it wasn't so damn disgusting."

"What are you talking about?" Quinn cocks an eyebrow, removing her hand from Puck's inner thigh and clasping it with her own.

"Oh please," the other woman scowls, an amused look on her face as she eyes Puck's hand on Quinn's hip under the blonde's shirt. "I'll just head over to Rachel to gossip about the latest Broadway gossip. I've been trolling the chat rooms on my phone while you two were frolicking like two love sick puppies."

"Don't, please stay!" Quinn pleads, shrugging Puck's hand off roughly as she sits up straight and fixes her braid onto on shoulder.

"Please, be my guest," Puck smirks and Tina laughs in response as Quinn scolds him for being rude.

"It's cool, I know what it's like," she shoots them a knowing look, adjusting the purse on her shoulder. "Call me, Quinn, and, err— I'll let myself out."

"Tina!" Quinn uselessly calls after her before letting out a sigh, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend.

He holds up his hands in defense, "Hey, you were stroking my thigh like we were on our way to third base!"

"Oh, you're _so_ not getting any!"

"Then you won't either."

She hesitates for a moment before retorting, with a small grin, "That is a _very_ good point."

He smirks before pulling his shirt over his head and she shakes her head despite herself.

She's turned too easy these days.

.

**pretty pretty please will you review? tell me your thoughts or something you'd like to see or even just an 'i liked it' and i will kiss ur review with gratitude *heart eyes* i sound like such a douchebag don't i? ? ? **


	3. month three

**( A/N yee ha y'all i PROMISE i have **_**also**_** been working on baby i'm yours and hold on bloah blah i promise you thanks for reading more of my excuses enjoy pls review im desperate for attention and more finn/rachel/sam/santana/whoever next time promise u)**

x

"I _told_ you it would work, my mom sent me a fucking list of her top hundred Hebrew names yesterday."

Quinn groans (she doesn't want to even think about baby names, not yet), "Lets burn it."

He huffs, not looking up from the daily paper as he continues browsing through it, "Do I look like I want my kid to be bullied? Yankel or Menachem? No fucking thanks. Believe me, I fucking ritually burned that thing. Did a little exorcism and everything."

"Yankel, that's kind of cute," Quinn smiles teasingly, nudging his leg with her foot under the table. He looks up from his breakfast taco, narrowing his eyes, "I would've flushed his face in a public toilet everyday."

"My mother wants a Barron or a Imogen. Now that's a guaranteed weekly therapist visit," Quinn raises her eyebrows before remembering something and adding, "Atticus! She also mentioned Atticus. I seriously wanted to punch her in the face."

"Be grateful she just named you Lucy," Puck snickers as he drinks the last sip of coffee in his mug. "Imogen Quinn, now that's _worth_ switching for."

She punches him in the shoulder, "Very funny. I just need to make sure Frannie doesn't give her anymore books on_ how to make your baby successful_ because she is making mom just as crazy as her."

"My mother's number one suggestion was Pinacha. Just— I mean— I win, okay? I _so_ win."

Quinn snorts, "Imogen Pinacha, yeah, that'll go over well on a college application."

"Yeah, make fun of my heritage all you want but it's in the genes. So if it doesn't have the _schnoz_ it'll have something else."

"As long as it has your sense of humour," Quinn remarks sarcastically, crossing her legs and emptying her glass of orange juice.

He's about to respond with a snide remark when he spots the clock on the wall, checking the time on his watch just to be sure. He sighs, "I'm running late for work. Again. Thank you."

"Oh, but this conversation has been so lovely!"

"You're even more sarcastic as usual. Is that a side-effect of pregnancy?"

"No, but this is," she glares at him, flipping him the bird before he shakes his head and leans down to kiss her. "I love you. Have fun with your kids."

"I love you, too, and I will," she calls after him as he dashes out the door before muttering to herself cheerily, "After I empty my entire breakfast into the toilet!"

.

"I don't want to go swimming, Puck," Quinn snaps as she crosses her arms over her chest. "Especially not with _Liam_!"

"What's wrong with Liam?" Puck sounds amused as he puts a few towels in a bag before holding up a red bikini. "Should I take this one or the black one?"

She groans loudly, jerking the bikini out of his hands, "Nothing—"

He smirks, "That's fine with me but it's a family pool, babe, let's try to keep it PG-13."

"Fuck off," she bites back, glaring a hole into the back of his head. He momentarily disappears into the bathroom, emerging a few seconds later as he puts some of her shampoo in the bag.

"The black one it is," he retorts, stuffing it into the bag before walking to the kitchen, Quinn following him immediately.

"Look, I _love_ Liam, I do and I get that you feel the need to practice taking care of a child because why else would you voluntarily tell Tina you'd take Liam unless someone was holding a gun to your head?" Her voice easily goes from lovingly to angry into 0.002 seconds.

"Liam is awesome," Puck replies a little offended, opting which snacks to bring. Chips or chocolate? _Both_, the pool is like a big bath anyway. He can wash off Liam's tiny salty chocolate fingers.

"Yes, for an hour! Not an entire day," she grunts frustratedly as she leans against the fridge. "And the pool? Why did you tell him we we're going to the pool?"

"I promised, Q, do you want to disappoint a four year old?" He raises his eyebrows questioningly as he steps closer to her and she groans loudly, banging her head against his shoulder a few times.

She looks up, her face scrunched up, "Why do you think she needed a separate baby sitter for him?" He was so blind. Liam was a mess. He was a tiny big mess maker, who didn't listen and never got tired and liked to kick his brothers' and sisters' legs and if they weren't around adults would do.

"Because the other's had like, _activities_. Whatever the fuck that means. Mike says they have this whole calendar and Liam's was empty and their parents were busy or away or whatever and it's no big deal. It isn't any different from babysitting Logan, Emily or Charlotte."

"And why do you think his schedule is clear? Huh?" She pokes him in the chest accusingly, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Maybe he doesn't have any friends, do you want to be mean and cancel on a four year old? Have him all by himself the entire day at a distant relative who doesn't give a shit about him and charges Tina and Mike twenty bucks an hour?"

"Yes!" She says, nodding her head eagerly. "Now you mention it, I don't feel good!"

"Stop it," he says warningly, his gaze stern, "Do you want Tina to have to cancel her show and lose her job? Do you want Mike to let down twelve hundred people because he couldn't get a damn baby sitter?"

She sighs, faltering under his gaze before grunting, "Damnit!" She innocently adds, "You see, you don't even need to practice, you have the whole guilt-tripping thing down."

"Nice try, but I am good, huh?" He smirks, putting his hands on her hips and she shakes her head, a smile breaking onto her face.

"What time are we picking him up?"

.

"Liam, don't run, sweetie!" Quinn calls after him, her face sporting a painful expression, a towel wrapped around her torso as she shuffles after him carefully.

"I'll get him," Puck says, handing her the bag as he runs after him, equally fast. She'll be surprised if they don't end up at the hospital at the end of this day.

Puck almost slips, and she winces, before he catches Liam just in time before he jumps into the deepest part of the pool. Really frickin' surprised.

"See, I got him," Puck smiles widely, Liam hanging upside down from his shoulders as he walks back towards Quinn, a little out of breathe.

Quinn lets out a tiny sigh of relief, maybe it won't be too bad, "Fine, you—" As if on cue Liam punches Puck in the crotch causing him to put him down and hold on to his junk. Quinn laughs loudly, "You got him, huh?"

Liam yells loudly, "Ball!" before he sprints off back towards the deep end, spotting a brightly colored ball in the water. Puck obviously still in pain, gives her a look and she rolls her eyes, stuffing the bag and her towel in his hand before rushing after the little guy. She reaches him just a little too late and he jumps in causing her to follow him immediately.

She shoots the lifeguard an apologetic look before putting Liam on the edge of the pool and looking into his eyes. "Liam, you can't just run off like that, okay? It makes Auntie Quinn and Uncle Puck very worried and scared because we might not always be able to follow you."

"Ball," he says impatiently, pointing at the round object behind her and with a sigh she hands it to him. "You can play with it but we have to find a spot to sit first so hold Uncle Puck's hand and don't let go." She turns to Puck, narrowing her eyes at him. "Don't let go."

.

"I wanna go down the waterslide," Liam whines, batting his eyelashes as he gives Quinn a sweet smile. The blonde sees right through the façade but Puck, apparently, falls right for it. They'd just gotten back to their bags after spending two hours chasing down Liam in and around the water. Running a marathon would be less work.

"Sure, buddy," Puck says, ruffling his hair as he gets up from their seats, pulling an '_idiot_' muttering Quinn along. Liam's already halfway up the stairs to the waterslide when they finally manage to catch up with him.

"Wow, the yellow one looks awesome!" Puck exclaims, trying to ease Liam into taking the milder waterslide that requires a float, instead of a blue one called '_ecsta-Z_' which is making Quinn wonder how she'd pay for a therapist when she looks at the narrow opening.

"Or the green one!" Quinn gasps slightly, pointing at the heavily lit green one which spells out '_family friendly_' in big red letters with three exclamation points. That's more her style. Nice and safe. No drowning.

"No, I wanna take the blue one!" Liam pouts, tugging on Quinn and Puck's hand. Puck is about to answer when Quinn cuts him off. She knows the clown would say yes, because he doesn't think of the consequences. And he's an idiot. An idiot she loves a lot, but an idiot nonetheless.

"Mommy will castrate Uncle Puck if you get injured going down that thing," Quinn smiles brightly, talking through her teeth as she tries not to snap. She's learned by now that if you say no to a child, he'll only want it more. "Look how fun the lights are in the green one! Look!" She urges almost angrily as she points towards the green tube.

"Come on, Quinn, we can go down once," Puck says as he stares at the sad look on Liam's face. Quinn sighs, shaking her head, "It's too dangerous, it's not made for little kids, Puck."

"Come on, Q, don't be such a goodie two shoes," he smirks, reaching out to grab her hand when suddenly the color drains from his face, "Wait.. I thought you were holding his hand?" Puck frowns as he looks down at their hands and Quinn's eyes widen as she sees the top of Liam's head disappear into the blue tube.

"_Noah Puckerman_!"

"Hey, don't blame me," Puck holds up his hands in defense, "He's got that whole '_stand by what you want_' shit from Tina. He saw the opportunity and he took it."

"I'm going to murder you," Quinn says, punching his chest as she disappears into the blue waterslide after taking a deep breathe. She bumps her head twice (twice!) as she races through the tube blindly, water splashing into her face every five seconds before she finally reaches the end. Coughing, she emerges from the water, frantically looking around for Liam. Oh God..

"Wasn't that fun, auntie Quinn?" Puck smirks, Liam perched on his hip, clapping his hands excitedly as they swim towards Quinn. She's still coughing since she probably inhaled half the pool.

She rolls her eyes, meeting them in the middle, "Where the he— _h-e-c-k_ did you come from so fast?" She asks, running a hand over Liam's head, relieved. She gives him a small smile which soon fades as her boyfriend speaks, "I took the yellow one."

Quinn glares at him, pushing against his shoulder as he chuckles, "What? Did you think you could catch up with a kid that weighs like forty pounds? Should'a paid attention during physics, ms. Yale."

She groans, resisting the urge to smack him before swimming to the edge of the pool and leaning against it. Liam tries to swim towards her but his tweety swim wings aren't really helping him move his arms and get ahead. Quinn laughs as he tries to struggle towards her before she finally reaches out and pulls him into her arms.

In return he yanks on the tie in her bikini and as a result both strings fly into opposite directions. Quinn gasps, just barely being able to hold her bathing suit up, "Puck, I swear to God— you better take him from me before I purposely d-r-o-w-n him."

"My my, Ms. Fabray," Puck says, smirking, focusing his eyes on her chest as he takes Liam back into his arms, who giggles as he watches Quinn struggle to blindly tie her bikini back into a tight knot. A _very_ tight one.

"Shut it, Puckerman," she snaps, finishing securing her bikini before hoisting herself onto the edge of the pool. Puck knows just the answer to cure Quinn's mood and to keep Liam quiet for at least ten minutes.

"Who's ready for some ice cream?"

.

Quinn kisses Liam's head as he nuzzles his nose into her neck tiredly as they wait in line at the small restaurant attached to the pool.

"See, he's not that bad," Puck says, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.

"I just almost flashed an entire pool," Quinn bites back before her face softens as she looks down at Liam, a smile forming on her lips, "but he's not all bad."

"Aww, you're kid is so cute!" An older lady says as she reaches out to squeeze Liam's cheek.

"He's asian," Puck blurts out, his brows furrowed in confusion as to why this chick lady would even think he was their biological kid. Quinn was a blond white woman and he was pretty sure he didn't look asian.

Quinn gives him an appalled look as she elbows him in the ribs, before she turns to the lady smiling sweetly, "He's our friend's."

The woman nods curtly, forcing a smile on her face before turning back around. Quinn gives Puck an incredulous look and he shrugs. "What?"

"You're so fric— _rude_, she was just trying to be nice," she hisses as adjusts Liam in her arms. He's pretty heavy to carry for longer than five minutes out of the water.

"Whatever, Liam's way too attractive to be ours, huh, buddy," Puck smiles as he pokes the little kid in the ribs who in return giggles and waves him away.

"So you think Tina's attractive?"

"I— huh, what?" Puck frowns taking a look at Quinn's cold glare. "You really want to discuss this now?" He nudges his head towards Liam and she narrows her eyes. "So you do. Do you think she's more attractive than me?"

"No!" He exclaims, lowering his voice as he leans closer to her ear, "You know I think you're the prettiest woman I've ever seen."

"You think my mommy's ugly?" Liam's lower lip trembles as he takes his head off Quinn's chest and stares at Puck, not even blinking.

"No!" He exclaims again, looking from Quinn's icy glare to Liam's puppydog eyes. Quinn starts laughing, "You so deserved that."

"You're a b-i-t-c-h," he fakes a wide smile and she returns a sweet sarcastic smile.

"What's b-i-t-c-h?" Liam perks up as pull on Quinn's hair. She winces, removing his chubby fingers from her hair carefully.

"Ask mommy," Puck replies mindlessly as Quinn just shakes her head, not up for a fight.

"Yeah, ask her why uncle Puck said that about her!"

Puck rolls his eyes, finally able to order their ice cream. They sit down at a table and Liam settles onto Puck's lap. Liam tells a story about school and how a kid stole his poptart and how he continued to kick the kid in between his legs and Quinn laughs at the painful face Puck pulls when he reminisces about his own pain a few hours ago.

"Daddy told me to always follow my dreams and that poptart was like, my most big dream like— ever," the black haired boy says, leaning his chin on one hand as he licks his ice cream. Puck leans forward and whispers something in his ear when Quinn's busy figuring out how to get the ice cream inside of her stomach the fastest way possible.

Liam giggles loudly as he hold his ice cone in front of Quinn's face, "Here, auntie Quinnie, smell mine!"

Like an asshole, she falls for it and leans in to smell when he pushes it into her face. Quinn looks taken back for a second, grimacing before she lets out a deep sigh. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Ah, I think auntie Quinn needs a sandwich!" Puck smirks, looking at Liam who nods excitingly. "Yaaaas!"

"For God's sake, Puck, I'm not hungry!" Quinn finally snaps, she's not frickin' hungry! Looking at Liam and reaching out to take a napkin to wipe her face and then Liam's, she adds, "And your mom lets you watch too much Lady Gaga videos!"

Puck nods towards his girlfriend suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows and Liam lets out a squeal. Suddenly Liam jumps onto Quinn's lap and starts hugging her side, clasping his tiny arms around her as Puck does the same from his side. Oh, _that_ kind of sandwich.

"No, let me go," she says sternly, she's not giving in. Nobody is smiling 24/7, can't she be a little mad for five seconds that her face was covered in ice cream?

"Tighter!" Liam demands and they squeeze their arms tighter around each other, their ice cream long forgotten on the table. Eventually a smile stretches onto her face as she throws her head back, "_Fiiiine_, I accept the sandwich— now let go!"

"Auntie Quinnie's smile is soooo pretty," Liam gushes as they let go of her and Puck smirks in response as he looks at a flushes Quinn (she's practically _glowing_), "It sure is, kid."

.

When they bring him home at the end of the day, Tina is pleasantly surprised they got him to sleep.

"He fell asleep in the car," Quinn just says, leaving out the part where he pulled on a girl's pigtails at chuck e. cheese and stuffed a ball from the ball pit down her pants and the part he ruined Quinn's brand new dress by throwing a bottle of ketchup over her dress but not after he accidentally dropped Puck's iPhone in the toilet because he demanded he could play angry birds while doing number two. Quinn forces a smile on her face, making a point of pulling her coat tighter around herself. Tina doesn't need to know everything (like that they suck at being parents).

"He's an absolute angel," Puck adds, grinning as he hands Liam's bag to Tina, who gives him a funny look. Mike, carrying Liam, lets out a snicker, "I bet," before his wife turns around to glare at him.

When they get home— Quinn was so tired she fell asleep in Puck's car and he didn't have the heart to wake her up— he lets her sleep in his bed. (Just this once though. Can't let it become a habit or some shit.) He's careful not to wake Finn (and, lets not try to shit anyone, Rachel) because Finn's fucking grumpy when you wake him up and he forgot it was their night alone in the apartment.

"That was super fun," Quinn mumbles sleepily as he pulls her dress over her head and pulls the covers over her. Puck chuckles as he pulls his own shirt over his head and pushes his pants down, kicking them away before slipping into bed. He's pretty exhausted himself, to be honest. He wonders how Mike and Tina do it everyday plus three other hyperactive bastards. Fucking assholes probably still used the infamous vitamin d. (How else? Seriously?)

"Yea, let's not ever do that again."

Quinn laughs hoarsely before groaning in approval. "At least not for another six months."

.

"Of _alllllll_ the pregnancy side effects in the world— I get acne?" She leans her head on his shoulder sadly as she puts her mirror away in her make-up bag.

He rolls his eyes, grabbing her chin to turn her head and look at the left side of her face, "I barely see anything, Q."

"That's what I'll say next time you take off your pants," she says snarkily as she yanks the mirror back out of the bag and looks into it again. "I thought I would be done with this when I entered my twenties."

He ignores her earlier comments (he's learned from the first time and was reminded the second time around that Quinn gets mean from hormones and babies), "Nothing a little ProActive won't fix. Ask Santana, she does their commercials— she can probably score you some free shit."

"Funny you'd think of her," Quinn says alarmingly calm, her lips pursed. He slowly turns his head to look at her, swallowing hard. Not this again, he mentally prays to God or Satan or Beyoncé or whatever is out there that Quinn is not going into her loopy jealous state.

"Babe, her face is fucking everywhere. I could literally open a window here and her face would be on a billboard. If you think pimple, you think Lopez."

"Nice save," she says satisfiedly before she sighs and trails her fingers over the barely noticeable pimples.

He pecks her lips before he reaches out to touch her face tenderly. "You look super hot, like always, I promise."

She finally puts the mirror down, a small smile gracing her lips, and agrees to watch something besides _A Walk To Remember_.

.

Sunday is their day. They've finished looking over homework (which mainly consists of drawings and small undecipherable stories for Quinn) and game strategies (coach of the football, basketball and lacrosse team, fuck yeah—also sometimes he can't remember why he agreed because it's almost impossible to handle but as long as he gets to show off with it—_fuck yeah_) and they're usually left alone by their roommates because as Santana puts it she doesn't want to be around when they're '_struttin' around naked and all_' because _apparently_ she's seen it all before and isn't impressed. How, he doesn't know because if it were up to him, Quinn would be naked all the time.

She's not waiting for him in the kitchen as usual but he finds her in her room, standing in front of the mirror. He sighs loudly as he leans against the door opening and crossing his arms. "Not this again, right? You're not fat."

She frowns, biting down on her lip as she doesn't even bother to tear her eyes away from herself. "I know— I just, look—" She says, turning around and pulling up her shirt to reveal the smallest, tiniest bump he's ever seen. It's tiny, but it's there. (It looks more like she had a big meal to him but he knows better than to say that.)

"You look fine to me."

"I know, I just… I think it looks good," she hesitates before she smiles and he smiles back as he walks towards her to engulf her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. She feels his hand land on her stomach and she realizes she's never seen him this happy— he's happy because she finally seems like she's too, and she thinks she really is. It's going to be a huge adjustment, but she's Quinn Fabray, she can handle it.

His hand is warm as it presses against her abdomen, his thumb caressing the skin over her shirt. "I love you." He says and her eyes soften, because he's not one to just throw it around and he rarely says it so seriously. Not that he doesn't mean it when he's leaving for work or ending a phone conversation, but it's more out of habit than anything.

She puts her hand on his cheek and grins, leaning up to kiss him. "And we love you."

She's never seen him smile so brightly.

.

"This is going to feel a little cold," Dr. Robbins warns her as she squirts some gel on her stomach before turning on the tv screen and beginning the ultrasound. She's moving the stick around for what seems like forever and Quinn squeezes Puck's hand so tight he winces, but he doesn't say anything.

She knows this is it. The doctor's probably going to say there was never a baby, they made a mistake— or she lost her baby because she gave the first one away without hesitation or, or it was a tumour or something. Why would she deserve a baby in the first place anyway? This was stupid. It was stupid of her to think she could get a second chance and it was stupid of her to get attached and she doesn't, she doesn't deserve this and Puck deserves better than an infertile used up girl who can't even give him what he wants and—

"Ah, there's the heartbeat!" The brunette doctor nods toward the screen and turns the volume up with her free hand. Suddenly a slow, steady heartbeat fills the room and she feels tears rolling down her cheeks, although she doesn't even notice it at first. Her chest feels warm as she listens to the steady beat and she can't believe this is real, that's this is theirs and they made this perfect thing, even if it's a do-over. But it's not a do-over, not at all. This time it's different and this time it's better because they can keep it now, they can keep this thing with a heartbeat and raise it and it'll still have a heartbeat and it's just unbelieveable.

Puck squeezes her hand tightly as he brings her hand to his mouth and kisses it, before using the thumb of his free hand to wipe away her tears.

"The fetus looks and sounds incredibly healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Puckerman."

She doesn't even correct Dr. Robbins, she just keeps repeating the word _healthy_ in her head over and over. She can leave the feminism— _an unmarried woman can have a baby!_— topic for a different appointment (because their baby is _healthy_ so she'll have more appointments for their _healthy _baby).

He squeezes her hand again and she realizes she was wrong, she's never seen him smile _this_ brightly.

They're having a family.

.

**everyone join me in a prayer circle because there have been quick spoilers for the 100th all over and we got two salgron pictures and somebody give me a hallelujah ryan has heard our prayers thank you science god oprah ive prayed for this since season 1 finale "quinn and puck will always be friends" ha Ha eat my shit ryAN IT'S TIME FOR A SMOOCH**

**[insert heart emoij] review if u love quick [insert heart emoij] im thirsty ok**


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